Chase Me To Wonderland
by bonecolouredskin
Summary: "Alice. He's not real. You made him up. He doesn't exist." I couldn't make sense of what my therapist was saying. Of course he was real, how could he not be? Was I really that crazy, or was I just lonely? A/H
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Please, Alice. Go quietly. We don't want a scene being caused."

It was her parents annual Christmas party, they held it in their luscious back garden every year with ten days before Christmas. They had finest red wine and ham being served. It was her parents annual Christmas party and Alice Brandon was being shipped off to a Austin state hospital in Texas. A psychiatric hospital. Ten days before Christmas. Yep, you heard right, a mental institution. For crazy people, just like me.

Well, I'm not crazy. But that's what they've deemed me. "Mentally unstable.". They only call me that because they don't know what's wrong with me, or better yet, they don't _want _to know what's wrong with me. I can't blame them, I wouldn't really want to know what I am if I didn't have to feel me. If you get me. You probably don't. No-one does. I don't blame them either. I don't really get me myself, and I am me.

Well, lets try and sum up what Alice Mary Brandon really is.

It's kind trying to sum yourself up though, isn't it? What are you, who are you, what, who, why, when, where, bla bla bla.

None of it makes any sense. Nothing does, if you really think about it.

But yeah, they "medically" declared me all sorts of things after a ton of tests, examinations, the works. Schizophrenic, depression, GDA (generalised anxiety disorder, but ill get onto that later.) OCD, (obsessive-compulsive disorder.) fuck, they even put me down as suicidal. They think I tried to kill myself. I didn't. I just wanted to make everything stop. But then again, if you saw a girl who heard and saw things who had taken 20 aspirin pills and 20 paracetamol tablets who downed it all with a litre bottle of vodka..I'd say you'd think she was pretty suicidal.

I remember that day like it was last week. To be honest, it was last week. It wasn't an eventful day, just your average depressed teenagers day. Wake up, lie in bed all day and go to sleep. But then I thought "Why not? Why not just have a shit load of pills and lots of alcohol? What's the worst that could happen, I kill myself? I'm already dead." _I'm already dead. _

So then I did it. I turned on my ipod and plugged it in, if I'm about to die I at least want to do it to music I enjoy. I didn't bother writing a suicide note. I wasn't going to write "I love you all, none of this is your fault." Because, to be frank, I don't love them and it is their fault.1 After about the first 10 tablets it was relevantly easy. One tablet, one swig of vodka. Easy. Simples. I was enjoying really enjoying myself. That's what I'm best at, destroying myself. Then I remember just slowly fading out, like I was going in for a really deep sleep. I closed my eyes and next thing I know I'm awake on a hospital bed with a tube down my throat with about ten doctors surrounding me. I didn't do it. I didn't die. Well, I might have done, but then again, I highly doubt heaven (or hell) is being on a hospital bed with a tube down your throat. If it is then that's incredibly shit.

But yeah, they pumped my stomach and here I am. Alive and...not healthy. Not healthy mentally, that is.

You know what the funny thing is? No-one even knew I was ill. I should go into drama as I'm so amazing at acting. My whole life is a fucking play. Not my family, nor my friends, well, the few friends I have. I did have one friend though, Bella. But then the doctors found out that she had an eating disorder and took her away. Just. Like. That.

People wouldn't consider me normal. I consider me normal, but what do I know? I tried to kill myself apparently. But I've been "seeing things" ever since I was about four years old. That's the earliest I can remember anyway. I don't see things that aren't there, that aren't real. I see things that are going to happen. Sort of telling the future and so on. But they don't believe me, nobody does. But I can tell the future. I've seen it happen. I predicted that my sister would fall out of a tree when she was ten, I saw that the little girl across the road would be run over by a bus and die. I foresaw that I would be raped and brutally attacked.

Forgot to mention that, didn't I? Yeah. Nothing big though. Everyone's raped nowadays. Happened when I was 13. Doctors think that's what sparked my depression, but they're wrong. They're always wrong. You don't need a doctors degree and 11 years in college to know that I've been fucked up from the start.

I think that's about it really, I think you should get why I'm so crazy now after explaining it more in depth to you.

"Alice!" My father barked in my direction, "You will walk down the stairs, avoid all eye contact and conversation and go out the backdoor and you will go into that taxi and go to that hospital." His beady eyes started down at me. I wasn't afraid. He didn't scare me. No-one did.

"What if I don't fancy walking down them stairs, what if I don't want to avoid all eye contact and conversation, what if I don't _fucking _want to go to that fucking hospital!" My mother ran to the door as soon as I first said 'fucking' to shut it. Of course, wouldn't want mommy and daddys prestigious guests being scared by the crazy child.

"Now you listen here young lady!" He shouted, his deep voice bouncing off the painted walls. "You WILL do as I say, okay?" I shook my head. Fuck doing what he says. Fuck everything and everyone. He scoffed and shook his head and pointed his finger at me. "Do. As. I. Say."

He should have known better than to point his finger at a crazy person.

I grabbed his finger and bent it backwards. I enjoyed hearing the cracks in his finger and his muffled screams. My mother ran up and flung me backwards, cradling my father and his broken finger.

"When did you get so damaged, so ruined! Your sister is normal, be more like her! Be normal!" _your sister is normal, be more like her. Be normal, be normal, be normal. _I would if I could.

I turned back at them and smiled. "Now ill go." So I walked out, not caring about me or anyone else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I don't like taxis. I never have and I don't think I ever really will. I don't like any public transport to be completely honest. So many people all forced into one compacted vehicle. Maybe it's just me. I don't think crazy people are even meant to get on public transport anyway. But when have I ever cared before? Never. Exactly.

The taxi driver looks abit freaked out. His shoulders are all stiff. I could hear his uneven breathing too. Can't blame him. it's just me and him sitting in the taxi alone. Him and a crazy person. Going to a crazy hospital. Crazy crazy crazy. That's me.

The taxi driver tries to start a conversation up, "So why you heading Austin? You don't look that crazy."

I get told this a lot. I don't look _that _crazy. _That. _But it's true. I don't. I don't scream or whisper things under my breath or anything a typical crazy person would do. It's all in my head, which is significantly worse. I can't escape my crazy hair brained thoughts. Fun.

"I've been told." I smiled. "I'm secretly and serenely fucked up."

The taxi driver nodded, "Got anything in that suitcase or your bag? They search them you know."

I rolled my eyes at his stupid comment. I may be classed as crazy but not as retarded. Of course they would search your bags.

I leant back in the old ruined leather seats and crossed my arms and legs. "Lets just say I have my ways." I was quite clever. I got straight A's despite hearing and seeing things. One time I saw something in my maths exam. The people thought I was cheating and took me out and made me redo the paper in a separate room on my own. It wasn't that bad. The one thing that was slightly off putting was that I predicted my grandfathers death. Still managed to get a A though.

The taxi driver chuckled. "I like you." I didn't reply. I didn't have a reply. What could I reply to someone saying that they like me when I didn't even like myself?

I've never liked myself. Not really. Even when I was six years old I hated myself and everything around me. I wasn't interested in going out and riding my bike with all the other children. I stayed in my room alone reading. I like to read. It takes me away from everyday life, even for just a little while. It's nice. Pretending you're someone you're not.

"Get shipped here by your parents, eh?" His voice had some what of sympathy in it. I didn't care for his sympathy. His sympathy wouldn't change anything.

"You got it."

I saw him half smile, "Just do what the doctors tell you to kid, get fixed and you'll be out of there in no time."

He didn't understand. I wouldn't be fixed. I never will be. The only way ill be fixed is if I kill myself and I failed at that. No matter how many treatments I get, no matter how many pills and drugs they give me ill never be fixed. Not properly anyway.

"I won't be fixed."

The driver smiled, like I was being some pathetic girl who didn't understand. "They all say that, you will be."

I was starting to get angry. Didn't he fucking understand? You can't escape yourself, you can't, you can't, you can't.

"No. I fucking _won't _be fixed." My voice began to get sharper, more louder. The drivers eyes widened and he didn't reply. Ha. Maybe he has realised I am crazy.

We were almost here. I could see the sign telling you were to turn to get to Austins. I could tell this was going to be some horrible prolonged stay. I could tell it'd be filled with complete nut jobs and I haven't even seen it. I just know it will be like that.

The driver had stopped. We were here. It didn't look weird. It didn't look crazy. It was just a large stone building with leaves growing up on it. It was quite pretty actually. There were trees covered in snow. Even though it was the middle of winter and all the tree leaves had disappeared it was still beautiful.

"Miss? Um...you have to go."

I hadn't realised that the driver had been standing there with my suitcase with the door opened. I nodded and gathered my bag. I stepped out onto the ground and felt a cold chill come over. I wasn't cold though. I never felt the cold. I never really feel anything anymore. I think it's better that way. Less pain involved.

I got out the cab and stood on the ground and watch the taxi drive away. I didn't know what to do, lost and confused in my own self. I'm scared.

"Are you new or returning?"

I turn round to find a boy (or man) standing there. I looked down and back up. I didn't know. I didn't know anything. I didn't answer. I couldn't. I just stood there with my lips slightly parted, not knowing what to do with myself. The boy smiled sympathetically.

"Your arms are blue, why don't you go inside?" I couldn't go inside, I couldn't. I changed my mind. It wasn't pretty or beautiful or anything like that. It looked terrifying, the bricks, the bars across the windows, everything. It represented enclosure. Once you were in you wouldn't get out, especially if you were me. I started to shake my head. Not inside, anywhere but inside. "It's not that hard. Just one step at a time, you know?" His voice startled me, making me jump. I looked up at him with wide eyes.

"I can't." I whispered to myself so quietly I'd be surprised if he even heard me. I looked back down at the ground and stared at it intently, trying to calm my breathing down from the short quick breaths I was currently doing. "I can't. It's too hard. I just can't." I fell to my knees. Pain. Death. Loss. Alone.

The boy bent beside me. "Yes Alice, you can." I looked at him. How did he know my name? Have I met him before me?

"How do you know my name?"

He looked at me with wisdom and a look of eyes that look so familiar it was like I was looking in a mirror, "I know you just as well as you know yourself."

_I know you just as well as you know yourself_

I was about to question him on his comment but he had disappeared. I didn't know anything anymore.


End file.
